paimonrising

[paimonrising]

“oh no we need to practice for our fake dating” is the funniest trope to me cause like. there are so many people who force themselves into a shitty relationship they hate just because of amatonormatiivity that it’s an ingrained part of popular culture to joke about hating your partner.

which is to say, oh my god you dont need to hold hands and go on fake dates, you don’t even need to agree on a single detail of your cover story beforehand. you can literally stand 6 feet apart at all times and look profoundly uncomfortable and all anyone will think is “yikes™. not my problem”

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coerced breeding….. make me think i want it, tell me it’s gonna be better without a condom, honest, and i don’t even gotta do anything, “lay down, here, i’ll pull out when i’m close, i promise”

praising me the whole time until i stop complaining, hips pushing back against yours until you force your cock in as deep as you can, groaning into my ear, my body trapped under yours while you pump your cum into me. cock pulsing against my cervix, making sure all of it gets where you want it, where it’ll have the best chance to knock me up

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So my partner and I rescued two kittens, Pillbug and TBD (my partner says they need a special name for TBD and if someone doesn’t act soon tbd will BE her name). They were strays and they’re still LEARNING TO LOVE (read: they are very hissy). Pillbug got sick very suddenly yesterday and we had to rush her to the emergency vet and we had to hospitalize her. Now tbd is showing signs of illness and we’re panicking. If you’d be willing to contribute even a tiny bit (no amount is too small) we would be grateful.

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you’re in his dms? okay, well, im on top of him. we’re not fucking he just likes the pressure

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two bros, both alike in sexuality

in a hot tub, where we lay our scene

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t.he character s

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this applies to both of them

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It's almost "sundress and no underwear, so she can sit on it anywhere" season >>>

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June hadn’t intended to end up with Felix. She hadn’t intended for any of this to happen. When she thought about it (and sitting alone in their doublewide in the silence after he’d left with the cop had felt like endless time to think) she could see the trail of breadcrumbs leading to his she’d gotten here.

She’d met Felix a few years before— he was much older than she was, in college, and he seemed so much more mature (and more well-built) than the boys at her school. Fun to be around, someone who had a car he enjoyed working on and who awoke in June a desire to understand how they worked, awoke a desire for the power to fix things even when she couldn’t fix anything about her own life.

When her mother, Abigail, found out she’d used it as an excuse to kick June out, and where else were she and her cat (Baby June) supposed to go? And oh it was lovely at first, especially after she dropped out of school. The adultness of all of it, working and helping Felix out with his car. But gradually— and this June hasn’t got breadcrumbs for— things slid downhill.

Leading at last to this: an accusation that she must be into some guy at work (untrue, although he was kinder than Felix) and a threat, and June might put up with her own bruises but not to the one creature she was responsible for, who loved her unconditionally and was loved in return. So: a phone call she rather than the neighbors made, the usual Friday night spectacle (so typical it was hardly worthy of the word at this point) of thr flashing lights of the police car in the driveway, and a shaky-voiced confession made with Baby June squirming in her arms.

But Felix called her, his one phone call, and what was she supposed to do?

When there came a knock at the door June almost didn’t answer, but then, her whole body language expressing her weariness with the whole business, she opened the door: a short young woman, masses of black hair held up twisted around a few pencils, in terry cloth shorts an an old t-shirt. Behind her the double wide’s interior was worn and carefully clean.

“Seriously.” Flat, staring up at the man, arms wrapped around herself. “You don’t get it at all.” And how could he? June studied him, lips pursed. “What do you want?”

closed thread to @paimonrising

531 Knoxwood Drive. A residence that almost everyone in the station could roll their eyes with a knowing smirk about, because officers were dispatched so frequently to the trailer over domestic disputes that at least a few officers knew the residents by name. June and Felix Wellstone were a couple made in Hell, and the previous night their domestic disputes had finally gotten physical. Everyone at the station knew it was not a matter of it, but when. June hadn’t believed any of their arguments were worth pressing charges over, despite any of the officers’ insistence. That was, until last night, when Felix finally crossed that threshold of emotional violence into physical violence. Put his hands on the girl. Threatened to hurt her cat. All over a minor miscommunication. 

After months of trying desperately to get June to press charges and go into a domestic abuse shelter, Everest had finally been the one to do it. A testament to his de-escalation and negotiation abilities. One of the reasons he had been promoted to Lieutenant was because he could break through the mold with things like this. June had been a tough case to crack, but the sheer amount of relief he’d felt last night, after getting dispatched to the residence at the unholy hour of 2AM, when he had taken hold of June’s shoulders in as gentle a covet as he could, and searched her teary eyes to offer something to anchor to, and softly relayed a notion he was a hypocrite for not taking the advice of himself. 

“You don’t want this forever, June. You know it’s only going to get worse. Tonight it was a slap. Tomorrow? What if he kills your cat? What if he kills you? I’m not trying to scare you—’s just that… when someone loves you, they don’t treat you like this. With contempt. Violence. I’m gonna ask you again—do you want to press charges?”

Finally, finally, finally, the girl had devolved in a heartbreaking torrent of sobs, with a nodding confirmation. It was not good practice, it could lead to liability, but Everest had thrown caution to the wind and curled his arms around her. Held her like she deserved to be held. 

She was too young to be going through this shit. 

And maybe it hit a little close to home. Maybe it hit a lot closer to home than he wanted to admit, because he, too, went home to a spouse that showed him that love was violence. His wife was something to walk on eggshells around. An IED, just waiting for one wrong step to explode. Everest never considered himself a victim of domestic violence, but deep down, he understood. He understood that the same dwindling hourglass existed for him too. She had thrown a knife at him once. She had pounded her fists on his chest, spitting her vitriol at him like he was not the man she vowed to love until death did them part. 

Perhaps he had died long ago, and that was why her affection rescinded. He sure as hell felt like it. His SSRIs were starting to falter again. He’d need to meet with his psychiatrist and ask for a higher dose. A task for another day. Because, today, he was hellbent on interception. 

He was not back at 531 Knoxwood to play solicitor. He was back because he’d found out, just ten minutes prior, that Felix Wellstone had his charges dropped. His release was still being processed when Everest had, in a rather frustrated burst of emotion, strode out to his cruiser, slammed the door, and cut it out of the lot without a word to anyone about where he was going. 

On the short drive down, through the poorest region in the county, he silently coached himself down. Off the precipice. She didn’t deserve to be on the other end of his chagrin, even when it was borne out of care. This girl was going to drive him nuts. If she took this prick back, he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his mind about him. The anger that had ripped through him last night when he’d gotten there and found Felix trying to discredit June, claiming she made it all up, claiming she was just some crazy bitch, throwing out every expletive he could think of, while June was so terrified that she’d been trembling… it was enough for Everest to lose his cool. Everest Rowe never lost his cool. It was beyond telling that he had all but tackled Felix, thrown him at the wall and jostled him around by the cuffs on the pursuit of taking him down to the jail. 

The entire ride there, Felix had taunted him, about how June was going to change her mind, how she was a liar, and she just didn’t realize that their love was more important than his “discipline”. 

It’d taken several hours for Ev to even fall asleep after his shift. Too wired, too livid to get that call out of his head. 

The only reprieve had been that Wellstone was spending his night in a cell. Everest’s fists met the solid of the trailer’s front door with a pound harder than he intended it to be. 

Clad in black tactical with a nameplate across his pec, a radio clipped around his back and to the front of his uniform chattered with indistinguishable conversation. 

The door opened, and he didn’t have to say anything. His expression said it all. Firm, disappointed, angry. “Seriously?”

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♡ KENNEDY WALSH via tiktok ( c4tluvr666 )

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“Lilo and Stitch” 2002

Deleted Scene

Lilo plays a trick on the tourists.

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I know this is going to make me sound pretensions but I have to get it off my chest. I feel an unimaginable rage when someone posts a photo and is like "this picture looks like a renaissance painting lol" when the photo clearly has the lighting, colors and composition of a baroque or romantic painting. There are differences in these styles and those differences are important and labeling every "classical" looking painting as renaissance is annoying and upsetting to me. And anytime I come across one of those posts I have to put down my phone and go take a walk because they make me so mad

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link: https://bsky.app/profile/brainvsbook.bsky.social/post/3llc72lyhu22j

google translate defaulting to chinese at first

okay but for those of us with interests in both the murderbot and the daomu biji fandoms this is kinda hilarious

(english-side-only really, i get that the kanji and hanzi are completely different)

our good (air)ship murderbot! thanks google

[paimonrising]

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

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Not looking to replace anyone! Im a nonbinary (afab) RPer in their mid30s. I’m not rping with anyone under 21! :)

Right now I’m looking particularly for m/m rps but I’m down for m/f too particularly age gap relationships — trans chars welcome! I write third person present tense (open to past tense I just mess up sometimes!)

Some stuff I dig:

Mafia/criminal x civilian

Omegaverse (yes to feral behavior, heat cycles etc, no to mpreg)

Modern/contemporary fantasy (think American Gods and Neverwhere— we hate Neil gaiman, love the concept of the book)

Modern/contemporary supernatural (vampires, weres, etc)

Mysteries we write together

Please give me slasher plots!!

Contemporary/modern fae plots

SCP/X-Files/MIB shenanigans

Please note I love smut, and I’m down for smut heavy plots for sure though it’s not required immediately. I find that smut can in addition to being fun bring out interesting aspects of characters. I love kink, inquire within for more info haha.

Speaking of characters I have some

Premade OCs and also really enjoy making new ones. :3

A little more about me: I’m in the pst timezone and not terribly activate on weekends, most activate between 7:30am-5pm on weekdays!

I love talking and friending OOC as long as my rp partner is comfy with it! I’ve included some screenshots of posts I’ve done to give an idea of my average post length and style.

Some of my many OCs

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Sir Terry Pratchett is a master of the written word but he ain’t shit for the way he trained me to accept dumb naming conventions because i got three missed calls on my phone from Scam Likely and I spent like half a day wondering who I knew named Scam. 

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what he means: my first girlfriend sacrificed herself for the good of her people, and she didn't think twice about it. i saw firsthand what it meant to truly protect those you love, and in that moment i also experienced what it meant to be loved enough to be protected. but i wasn't ready. i didn't have enough time to say goodbye. she was gone before she fell back to me, and i knew it even before i looked for a pulse that wasn't there. she was heavy, until she wasn't, because i saw death happen in a way i never thought it could when her body vanished from my arms. i now know what it feels like to kiss a spirit, and it's the last touch i have of her. she sacrificed herself because she believed it was her duty, an expectation she felt she needed to face, and it should never have happened. but she got dragged into a war that we brought to her home. there was nothing i could do to protect her from its devastation, and i blame myself for her death.

what he says: my first girlfriend turned into the moon